


To Hell With 'The Journey'

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16948200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Lindsey heads to Africa, first, on his power-up quest.  He gets to meet someone special there.





	To Hell With 'The Journey'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shylahmask](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shylahmask).



> This is for **shylahmask** who asked : _How about some nice, aggressive Spike/Lindsey... maybe just as Spike's going to Africa to get his soul, and Lindsey's journey to get "powered up" is in process?_
> 
> And lo! They 'connect' for some dirty, filthy sex. Extremely oblique mentions of Spike/Angel and Angel/Lindsey.

Equatorial Africa was not a fun place to visit as a vampire. Whole stretches of countryside had to be crossed at a snail’s pace over terrible roads, and hospitable roofs were far between. Never mind a good supply of blood, out of the cow, thank you very much. He’d found out enough times that the chip was designed by a fucking vegan.

He was dirty, hot, exhausted and frustrated by too many panicked rushes against the sun followed by long slow days in houses with too many windows and not enough TV.

What was it with Ugandans and “Europe’s Got Talent?”

It was in an open-air bar on a cool night in a little hamlet off a road main enough to be paved that he finally got word from a half-brachen truck driver that the rumors he was following were true. He was almost there.

So he turned down a perfect berth for the night with said half-brachen to push on. The truck he’d hitched a ride with broke down, and he’d had to walk, ending up in a remote farming village where no one wanted to issue an invitation to the strange white man as the sun was rising so he’d ended up in a cattle shelter with uncomfortably wide gaps in the wood slat structure.

It was shallow, open on one side facing a small enclosure, within which three lazy and large cows stared at him, infinitely unimpressed. He hoped as the day warmed up they wouldn’t try to crowd in the meager shade with him.

There were sounds of industry stirring in the village – someone running a water pump, someone shouting. Spike decided to settle into the pile of hay in the back of the shelter and hide himself from sight. A bloke looking like he did wasn’t exactly what you’d call ‘inconspicuous’ around those parts.

But as he settled into the straw, a leg already under it kicked at him and then the straw pile was getting up. “Ow! Shit! Listen, don’t fucking shoot or nothing…”

Spike blinked up at a clearly white, American bloke with straw stuck in his hair, who looked at Spike with equal shock and confusion.

After a long pause, Spike jumped to his feet, pleased to see he was an inch taller. “Piss off. I can guarantee I have more need of this shelter than you do, mate. I don’t tan well.”

Rather than sensibly pissing off as ordered, the man blinked blearily at him, looked over his shoulder and then back at Spike and asked, “What the hell are YOU doing here?”

“Oi! Think I can ask that question just as well, and I didn’t, because it’s bloody obvious we’re shady men who have no business being here, right?”

The man thought about it a bit, and shrugged. He stuck out his hand. “Lindsey McDonald. I’m searching for a legendary mystical shaman. What’s your story in twenty words or less?”

Spike liked the direct approach himself, but decided against “Vampire on a redemption quest – a real one not a sad sorry Sartre-reading one.” He took the human’s hand and gave it a firm grip. “Name’s Spike. Seems we’re on the same road. But seriously – bugger off. I need to sleep.”

Lindsey’s eyes narrowed and he took a step back. “Just when the sun’s coming up.”

There was no mistaking the change in the human’s heartbeat. Great. Was this some foolish self-appointed vampire hunter? He didn’t look the type. Spike sprawled languidly in the straw, pretending not to care a bit about the spot of sun poking through next to his leg. “Yeah. Hot country, innit? Better to go at night.”

“Yeah, real hot.” Lindsey lowered himself against a support post of the shelter, half in the sunshine, his icy eyes on Spike like he was a rattlesnake. Or, well, a vampire.

Spike groaned and rubbed his gritty hands over his face. “Look, mate, I’m fucking exhausted. If you could maybe NOT try to kill me in my sleep, I’d appreciate it.”

“Who said anything about killing?”

“Say I’m not the trusting sort. Why aren’t you leaving?”

Lindsey shrugged. “Just curious.”

“About what I have worth stealing once I drop off?”

Lindsey stared him down for a while before dropping his gaze and his voice. “About what an English vampire is doing tracking down a demon shaman in Africa.”

Spike considered arguing that no one had said anything about vampires, or simply pulling the incredulous “there are no such things” act, but something in the angry, steady gaze of this man made him just nod. “Cards on the table?”

Lindsey licked his lips. “I don’t care if you’re a vampire. I really don’t. Not as long as you aren’t trying to eat me.”

“Well then, I have no intention of eating you.” Spike smirked and couldn’t help adding, “Unless you return the favor.”

And, oh! There was a sharp, clear sent of arousal. Well, well.

But Lindsey’s expression stayed hard. “I’m on a mission. I’ve waited a long time and sacrificed a lot to get here. If you’re going to screw that up, I will end you.”

The cheek! Spike flung straw everywhere, scrambling up. “There are trials, you nitwit, designed to torment demons. And near as I can see, you’re a pair of horns and a tail short of demonic.”

Lindsey lifted his chin. “I’ll do what I have to.”

“For what? If you prove worthy, what are you going to ask for?”

“Revenge.”

“Re-?” Spike threw his hands up. “That’s the single stupidest reason to undergo the trials I have ever heard. If your boyfriend dumped you, spit in his food. Or find a vengeance demon. They’re a dime a fucking dozen.”

“What do you know?” Lindsey demanded. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

Spike got up close in Lindsey’s face. “Do I? Been down the revenge road a time or two and it is never worth it. Certainly not worth wasting a once-in-a-lifetime chance. I may be a blood-sucking, soulless beast, but I’m not that stupid, selfish and petty.”

Lindsey jumped up, pushing Spike hard in the chest. Spike almost stumbled out into the sunlight. Forgetting himself, Spike gathered up handfuls of dirty flannel and shoved Lindsey against the wall of the shelter. Hopefully, his howl of pain from the chip-fire would be interpreted as the frustration he felt almost as keenly. He let his eyes go gold. “Do you really want to start with me?”

Lindsey breathed hard through clenched teeth and punched Spike in the gut. As Spike staggered back in shock, he nodded. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Spike couldn’t fight a human… not even with his superior strength and speed. Not in the narrow confines of the cattle shed, not with bright sunshine spilling out all around them and maybe four more interchanges before Lindsey realized what was up. The humiliating impotency galled, made him want to howl. He dropped back as far as he could, to the other side of the shelter, arms out. He did not want to back down, but Lindsey was looking hungry for a little violence, leaning forward, hands out himself, fingers twitching.

Fuck! Spike was frustrated, hungry, itchy, exhausted, and nothing would feel better than caving that pretty face in. He straightened with effort. “Well, not that it would take any effort beating you, but I’m not in a mood to get all banged up right before my big trial, ta.”

Lindsey frowned. He was obviously thinking and Spike didn’t have much time before one and one would make their unholy union. He pushed Lindsey (much more gently) back against the wall and pressed their bodies together. “But if you want to burn off some steam,” he purred, “how about a nice nasty fuck?”

Lindsey shivered all over and Spike could tell his mind had been slammed empty by sudden lust. “Fuuuck,” Lindsey said, pretty lashes lowering.

“You like the sound of that? Getting off with a monster in a dirty, filthy shed where anyone could walk by and see us?”

Hot hands grabbed him possessively, pressing their hips even tighter together. “For a vampire,” Lindsey said huskily, “you sure talk pretty.”

Spike wished he could bite that thick lower lip, but he could at least take it in his mouth and test the plumpness gently with his teeth. Lindsey hissed his approval and kissed hungrily back. Despite his less-than-romantic motivation, the honeyed drawl and the heat were getting to Spike; he felt his jeans growing tighter while Lindsey’s hard cock dragged against his hip, separated by two layers of rough denim and the dust of the road. Soon Lindsey’s chest was sawing against him as Lindsey tried to get his shirt off without breaking contact with mouth or groin. Spike grabbed cloth and tugged hard, tearing it in two so Lindsey could get his rough, hot hands back where they belonged.

Lindsey pulled back, gasping for breath. “That was my last good shirt, asshole.”

“So take it out of me,” Spike teased, enjoying the feel of running his hands over Lindsey’s bare sides. He was nicely muscled, thick and full under his hands, which gave him a dirty little thrill of nostalgia for Angelus’ thick arms.

Lindsey swept Spike’s legs out with a kick and threw him to the straw-covered dirt. The violent handling did shameful things to Spike – after all, this was Buffy’s favorite starting move and he’d gotten deliciously used to it. He ground up, knowing he was writhing like a whore for an infuriating bloke he’d just met, but not really caring. Not when Lindsey was popping the buttons on his fly and reaching in, fumbling with frenzied need.

Then he groaned at the loss of contact as Lindsey lifted up to wriggle out of his own jeans. Spike naturally hurried to aid him. Lindsey’s firm, round ass felt lovely, smooth and clean, unlike everything else around them, as Spike peeled the denim away and lifted him toward his dick. Skin on skin felt so good, even as the pre-come dribbling from his cock left tacky smears that caught the dust and dirt rising around them. Their cocks slid together and apart and Lindsey’s strong thighs felt good on either side of Spike’s, but the human slowed, a wary look falling over his features. “Just… just prep me a little, okay?” he asked, voice rough.

Oh. Of course. Lindsey had been fucked by a vampire before. He was expecting hard, violent penetration… that Spike couldn’t deliver. Spike’s fingers had already been sliding between Lindsey’s ass-cheeks. He felt the dry pucker and cursed himself.

“Tell me you brought lube,” Spike said.

Lindsey’s brow wrinkled. “In the desert? On a quest?”

There were no more sodding boy-scouts in the world. Spike idly wondered if Finn carried around lube. He bet he did, in some cartridge on his utility belt. He pushed Lindsey’s hips down. “Blow me,” he said.

“What? Fuck you!”

Spike held him firmly. Lindsey’s thick, sweating thighs writhed against him as he tried to crawl back up. He gave Spike a smoldering look of pure hate, holding his eyes as he licked across the tip of Spike’s cock then took it in his mouth, sucking hard.

“Fuck!” Spike’s hold relaxed as Lindsey slid down a bit more, lowering to swallow him.

And then with an obscene pop, Lindsey pulled off of him, kicking off to squirm right up Spike’s body to look down into his face. Spike grabbed for Lindsey’s shoulders again only to have his hands knocked away. He tried again and the chip gave a warning twinge as Lindsey struggled to stay on top.

Lindsey had hold of Spike’s wrists and was breathing hard, right on his face, his eyes searching. Quietly, almost to himself, he asked, “What is wrong with you?”

Spike arched an eyebrow. “This fag just stopped sucking my dick. What’s wrong with _you_?”

“No. No… there’s something wrong with you. Something you’re hiding. Maybe something you need the demon shaman to fix.”

It was getting uncomfortably close to the truth, and Spike was sure panic was showing in his features. So he moved quickly to shut Lindsey’s brain down again. He rolled them over and slithered down, taking Lindsey’s cock in his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. He looked up to see Lindsey gaping at him in shock, pupils blown. So he swallowed him to the root. It was quite the sensation, feeling blood pounding through veins so close to the surface, so close to his itching fangs. He marveled that he’d never thought to blow a human before. The torture was exquisite. His sinuses ached, his skin rippling as he tried to keep his game face down.

Lindsey slapped the straw with his fist, gasping and pleading, his hips twisting and thrusting shallowly, caught between staying still and wanting to get more. He tasted musky and alive and the taste mingled with the sunshine and fresh straw around him.

Then Lindsey thrashed a bit, unexpectedly, and Spike did vamp out. The cut was maybe a pin-prick, but it was enough, Spike grabbed his head, insensible to anything but pain for a blinding moment.

When he looked up, he saw Lindsey sitting up, naked in the straw and dust, his cock gleaming wet in reflected sunlight. His mouth was a firm line. “You can’t hurt me.”

“Pfft. That’s a laugh. I’m…”

“Hurting me hurts you. Is it a curse?”

Blinking back the aftershocks, Spike prowled forward on all fours until he could nip at Lindsey’s stubbly chin. “Sunshine… that’s all. Must’ve…”

Lindsey cupped the sides of his face, stopping him and drawing him up to eye-level. “Sh. It’s okay. I’m not going to take advantage. I’m not actually an asshole.”

And Lindsey smiled, warm and promising, a little apologetic. "Tell you why I'm here to get revenge. I need power. My enemy... he's a lot stronger, faster, immortal. I know what it feels like to not be able to fight back." Lindsey looked haunted, saying that, halting a bit on his words, and bugger if that didn’t do something very un-vampire-like to Spike’s insides. Something melting and soft.

He quickly pushed it down. “Well, cowboy,” he said, and licked at Lindsey’s lips. “It’s not like I don’t WANT to tear into you like a fresh steak.”

“Will you? When the trial is done, I mean… if you get what you want.”

Spike almost laughed. “After I get a… not likely. But I’m not sure I’ll be the same bloke when I come out. Don’t really want to be. That was the point, you see.”

Lindsey was searching his eyes. “Well,” he said, and licked his lips. “Guess I’d better fuck the HELL out of this ‘bloke’ before he goes away, then. That new guy might be a real dick.”

The humor helped. Spike didn’t like feeling vulnerable and damn if it wasn’t getting to be a distressingly familiar feeling. Lindsey’s fingers played up and down the sides of his face, his throat, curling gently, and he leaned in for a chaste little kiss.

Spike decided that was enough of that and pushed his tongue past eager lips, let his fingers tangle in long hair with bits of straw and dirt. Soon they were back against the wall, humping and making out like teens, jacking each other, wrists bumping and crossing, all a mess and laughing at themselves for it.

They’d both gotten more dirty rolling around on the ground, and there was an edge of rough friction from dirt on their hands, but neither of them minded that. Spike was soon leveraging himself against the wooden wall, not caring that the whole structure was shuddering as he pressed into it with his shoulders, just caring that he fucked as hard as possible into that hot, tight fist. Lindsey scrambled to stay close to him, lifting up himself. Sun dappled through the slats, gleaming on his beautiful eyes, his sweat-damp skin. Spike didn’t mind having to keep turning himself out of the light. He always did like that edge of pain to his pleasure. He grabbed Lindsey’s slick hips, though Lindsey cried out as if stung when he let go of his cock, and pulled him up into his lap. Lining their cocks together, they joined hands and lips, grunting and rutting as one. Spike felt his orgasm swelling in him, and he didn’t care to draw it out, he urged Lindsey faster and faster, their hands blurring in urgency, and just as he was about to slip over the edge, Spike felt Lindsey’s cock swell and burst, spraying their chests and up to their chins with spunk. He followed instantly.

They shuddered and fell together, exhausted and boneless. Lindsey was the first to recover, sitting up and wiping spunk from his lower lip and cheek. “Shit, that’s nasty,” he said, laughing and looking down at their splattered chests.

“That was the idea,” Spike said, lolling back and thinking how criminally unfair it was that his cigarettes were three entire feet away.

***

Lindsey paced outside the cave entrance. Spike had gone in days ago. After some laying about (he did not admit to the word ‘cuddling’), Lindsey had gone and fetched water so they could both wash, and they’d spent the day, just talking and getting to know each other. It had been a good day. And Spike had talked him into letting HIM go through the trials first.

He’d stood on the very spot Lindsey now stood, looking up at the cave, a cigarette dangling from his lips while he played with his lighter. “If I don’t make it,” Spike had said, “Don’t. Just don’t do it, yeah? Find another way to get your revenge.”

Lindsey had promised he would.

But now it had almost been a week and he had no way of knowing whether Spike had already failed the trials or what. He paced angrily. There hadn’t been accommodations better than the damn cattle-shed in that week and he was about to just charge into the cave-mouth himself, or leave. He could hop a boat in Mogadishu. Lots of people in Somalia spoke English. Maybe he’d head to Tibet. He had another lead there.

He was about to turn on his heel and do just that, a tear in his eye he wouldn’t admit to, when he saw a flash of light in the cave.

He ran up the steep, stony little path.

Spike was there, at the mouth of the cave. He was crawling, his white head and bare shoulders gleaming in the moonlight.

He hurried to him, put an arm under his and tried to lift him to his feet. Spike rolled onto his back, laughing, laughing in pained gasps, humorlessly. His eyes were wild.

Spike fell against the cave wall, and Lindsey realized he was speaking, mumbling. “I thought I could just earn it. Thought I could deserve it. The gods laugh!” He coughed, head rolling against rock as he stared up at the moon. “The gods laugh when mortals make plans.”

Lindsey dropped his hand away from Spike and took a step back.

Spike looked at him, suddenly seeing him, eyes welling with tears. “It hurts,” he said, rubbing his chest. “Angel. That bastard. Angel never said how much it hurts.”

Lindsey stumbled back, the loose stones underfoot nearly sending him sprawling. He gaped in horror a moment more, then turned and ran.


End file.
